Most entrants in the Third Antarctica Marathon (also dubbed the "Last Marathon" by Marathon Tours of Cambridge, Massachusetts, the race organizers), rated the course as the most difficult they've ever run. The winning time--3:45:19 for men and 4:31:25 for women-- and the median time of 5:36:08 lend credence to this judgment.

The course, a double out and back held in early February on King George Island just off the coast of the Antarctic continent, began on a beach strewn with rocks of up to fist-size, followed by a mile each way up and down a glacier, then ten miles along dirt roads punctuated by streams, shoe-sucking mud, and severe hills. Some runners reported being dive-bombed by skuas, a seagull-sized predatory bird. A wind that sometimes approached gale force lowered the wind-chill factor to a single digit and forced most runners to wear several layers of clothing. A notable exception was a Russian woman who ran the entire distance in T-shirt, shorts, and oven mitts. This was, after all, summer in Antarctica.

Summer provides enough daylight and reduced-ice conditions to attract a modest but steady flow of tourists. Ships leave the Argentine city of Ushuaia, at the southernmost tip of South America, to cross what can be one of the roughest stretches of ocean anywhere in the world, the 500-mile-wide Drake Passage. Just getting to Ushuaia is a major project. Most entrants assembled in Miami, flew overnight to Buenos Aires, then arose at 3:00 the next morning for the four-hour flight to Ushuaia. A day later they boarded one of two Russian research vessels chartered by Canadian-based Marine Expeditions, where they would spend the next 10 days.

Race winner Fred Zalokar of Reno, NV, offered a somewhat unique perspective on the course. "I do 50Ks and trail runs all the time," he pointed out. With five 100-milers to his credit, as well as a win in Nevada's prestigious Silver State 50K last summer, Zalokar is hardly the neophyte at running long distances that his lifetime total of four marathons might suggest.

But Zalokar doesn't consider himself so much a runner as a mountain climber. "My goal was to climb the highest peak in all seven continents," he says. "Even though I didn't actually climb a mountain here, I do consider this my Antarctica trip and therefore completion of that goal."

Like Zalokar, women's winner Laura Sloan of Atlanta is at least a step removed from defining herself as a marathon runner. "Marathons are too boring," she maintains, "although the scenery in this one was interesting." Boring or not, she's just one continent away from completing her goal of doing a marathon on all seven continents. But her primary athletic endeavors are triathlons, and training and riding horses for a living. "I love to ride horses competitively, mostly in fox hunting," she enthuses. She has been in two world championship ride and ties (a combination of running and riding), and has a reputation for being one of the best riders in the Atlanta area.

The chance to share Sloan's seven-continent goal was the driving force behind many entrants' desire to come to Antarctica, while others regarded the trip as a relatively inexpensive way of touring the continent. Perhaps the most unique motivation came from Timothy Ashbaugh of Pittsburgh: "I came to observe the glaciers and prove to myself the world is round." Remarkably, Ashbaugh was not only running his first marathon but also his first race of any length. He finished in a credible 5:10, putting him in the upper half of finishers.

That there is even an Antarctica Marathon is due to the slenderest of concidences. Thom Gilligan, president of Marathon Tours, in a 1994 interview in Travel Agent magazine mentioned offhandedly that his organization had sponsored tours to every continent except Antarctica. Sam Blyth, president of Marine Expeditions, happened to read the article and called Gilligan. "Why not eliminate that exception?" was the gist of the conversation. The two men quickly reached an agreement and, after overcoming formidable logistical obstacles, staged the first running of the Antarctica Marthon in 1995.

Originally, Gilligan wanted to hold the race near the Argentine research station on Hope Bay at the tip of the Antarctic Peninsula, which geographically is about equidistant between Buenos Aires and the South Pole. "But the Argentines just weren't good partners," he explained. "They bailed out five weeks before the marathon. 'You can't have a race in our country,' they said."

"Fortunately, we had already decided on King George as a backup. The bases there had always been very cooperative. They lead a pretty mundane existence, except when a ship comes in every week or two, so helping to host the race was exciting for them." Will there be another "Last Marathon"? "The planning process for the 2001 race has already started," Gilligan replied. "I have to put down a big deposit for the ships a year and a half in advance, so there is pressure to fill them up."

The two ships on this occasion quickly filled up, and 124 runners completed the marathon with another 32 finishing the accompanying half marathon. Many entrants in the latter came from the four research bases concentrated on the island: Uruguayan, Russian, Chilean, and Chinese. And there were no DNF's; people who committed for the cost of the trip and the difficulty of getting there weren't about to not finish.

The top local finisher was Greg Chatfield of Frederick, MD, whose 3:58:10 was good for fourth overall; Chatfield's was the final sub-4:00 clocking. Dominic Quattrochi of Silver Spring, MD completed his third marathon. His 5:09:43 put him just ahead of Jeff Horowitz; the Arlington resident notched 5:10:10. Tammy Huck, also of Arlington, followed with 5:22:27; Milton Taylor of Odenton, MD, was timed in 7:00:22; Robert Barron of Washington, DC recorded a 7:18:34.

"I loved Antarctica," noted Quattrochi, "especially the ice in its many forms and the wildlife."

"Antarctica is wonderful," echoed Huck, who had eight previous marathons and an ultra to her credit. "The course was challenging, but fun." The local finishers joined the other entrants the following day in what is quite likely the most unique post-marathon party you'll find anywhere: runners ate salad, pasta, and barbecued meat while icebergs and basking seals drifted slowly past, amid distant thunder as avalanches continually resculpted the contours of the massive glaciers that surrounded the ship.

But all too soon, the ship turned its bow northward for what turned out to be a relatively placid return across the Drake Passage. The captain steered carefully toward the Pacific Ocean side of Cape Horn so that everyone aboard could lay claim to rounding Cape Horn as the ship returned to Ushuaia. Runners disembarked with priceless memories of Antarctica as they boarded planes for the series of long flights back home.